LoSt
by MrsJulianLazarey
Summary: Tada Chapter 13 update. AU of S 4.Sarkney. What happens when they're finally stranded on the island?
1. Picking up the Pieces

Alias and Lost belong to the genius JJ Abrams. I'm so poor that it's not even worth the effort to sue me.

**Hints of S/V but only in the beginning. This story is to satisfy my own addiction to Sark/Syd stories and the fascination with them being stranded on an island. This is my first fic, be gentle. **

The day began normal as usual. Well, as normal as it could go after two years of pure chaos with a side order of another year of confusion. All this was just the regular drama of Sydney's life. She had finally gained a certain amount of control on her life when another bomb blow up the few fragments that she managed to piece together. She found out that her father had been training her since childhood to bea super spy. Not only did she feel betrayed, she felt used as if her only purpose was to save the world. For many nights now, she'd been dreaming of going away on a long vacation. She'd love to lie on the beach with her toes in the sand with Vaughn to keep her company. Things with Vaughn felt like they were going back to the way they were. Minus him shooting his wife, who tried to kill her and who she always known was bad. She just had an instinct for people's true colors, maybe because she'd been in so many disguises and still managed to be herself. She smiled as she looked at Vaughn, who was listening intently to Dixon's latest news on a new Covenant operation. Across from her, was her father. As always his stone cold expression and the occasional nod as Dixon gave more details on the mission. She looked at him and thought to herself that no matter what she'd still love him, even though she may not like him at times. He was always there when she felt alone and lost. No matter what, he'd always be there.

She was taken away from her thoughts when she heard, "Sydney, your goal is to get that disk before anyone else," said Dixon with a stern look on his face.

"Why? Don't tell me, it involves the Covenant? Or how about Rambaldi? How about my mother? Sark?" Sydney said while looking pensive in a sarcastic sort of way.

"I realize Sydney that you are not in the best of moods since you found out that…" Dixon paused realizing he shouldn't be talking about her private matters.

Well, not like it mattered since everyone seemed to find out anyway or controlled her life in some evil, conniving way. Every since she came back from finding those documents about her being in Project Christmas, she was mad at basically everyone. Her life had been manipulated from the beginning. She felt like she had no voice in her own life and she wonders what would have been had things gone differently. But, it was wrong to think like that because it kind of messes with your head. Well in her case if everything that happened in her life messed with her head, she'd be in a strait jacket - Which was looking pretty tempting right about now.

"And how did the little prick escape again? I swear both my mother and he seem to have a knack for escaping."

"Well, you're the best agent we've got left. Since Lauren's little visit, we are down ten agents and we are still trying to get things back into order." Dixon noticed Vaughn's eye twitch at the mention of her name and so did Sydney, who immediately gave him a reassuring look.

"I'm sorry. I understand. Where and when?"

"You're going to Australia. Sydney to be exact." Dixon smiled, noticing the irony. He never realized that he had never sent her there before.

He continued, "You're flight leaves tomorrow at noon. You will be traveling on behalf of Mark Milovich, a Russian diplomat with ties to the mafia. You're alias is Diane Deneve, Mark's assistant. You will acquire the disk, when the Covenant sends their contact to meet you. The extraction point is at a café near the harbor. You will exchange ten million dollars for the disk. Marshall constructed a fake account number a couple months ago. He's still recuperating so we're using what he's made so far. The money will appear in their accounts and disappear after an hour. They will be monitoring you, so it's best that you travel via commercial flights. They want to make sure not to draw any attention to themselves and doing everything as normal as possible is one way to do that."

Somewhere else around the world, Sark was listening to Irina talk about the latest Covenant Intel. Apparently, the covenant possessed a disk with information on government weapons and storage locations.

They were in one of her many mansions. This one happened to be in Belize. She was staring out her window, while Sark was seated on the leather sofa. He wore a typical Armani suit. Black of course and he didn't care that the pants were getting wrinkled as he sat with the expression that he was bored with everything. He was having a hard time with the Covenant since being caught.Lucky for him, Irina still needed him and managed to free him from that horrid fish bowl of a cell in the CIA. Irina's timing couldn't have been better. Not only was security not up to par since Lauren's little visit, her daughter wouldn't be there to interfere.

"Now Julian, we need that disk. Do anything to get it." Irina stated without looking at him. "Oh, by the way, sorry about your partner there. I heard she went and got herself killed." She said with a bemused smile.

He gave his signature smirk, "What a pity too. I was actually starting to like her. Oh well. Where and when's the extraction point?"


	2. Nightmare

**_CHAPTER 2: Nightmare_ **

**Rating:** Pg-13 for adult language (then again kids these days... in reality its still PG)

**All rights of 'Jesus of Suburbia' belong to Green Day. Please don't sue me either.**

**Thank _YO_u to Elisheva for pointing out my spelling and grammar - very helpful advice!**

Sydney woke up early as usual. Ever since she returned (from wherever the hell she was two years ago), she tried not to sleep too much because of the fear that another two years would be taken away from her. Since then, she believed that she had not had a good night of sleep for three years.

Three years ago, her life was not as bad as it was now. Well then again, her life has always been fed up. When she was younger, her mother supposedly died in a car accident. Years later, her fiancé was murdered. Two years later, she woke up not remembering anything and then finding out that she had known where and what she was doing. Then, to return to a life where all her friends were gone and her parents were criminals of the law. To make matters worst, to find out she had a sister who happened to be the love child of her mom and Sloane – whose mission in life was to make hers a complete hell for the sake of his addiction to Rambaldi.

It seemed to be like every time she went to sleep she awoke into a nightmare.

If you were her, you'd be lucky to get a good night's sleep too. In her line of work, the only good night of sleep she'd ever get was if she was in a coma or six feet under ground.

No, sleep was not a luxury she would enjoy.

Once she got up, she went for a jog to clear her mind. It's ironic that she felt less confused and lost whenever she went running with no intended destination.

She enjoyed feeling like no one could catch up to her. Then again, it was training to make sure that no one could. As she was running, she heard a car blasting this song:

_To live and not to breathe,  
Is to die in tragedy,  
To run, to run away,  
To find what you believe,  
And I leave behind,  
This hurricane of f lies,  
I lost my faith to this,  
This town that don't exist  
So I run,  
I run away  
To the light of masochists,  
And I leave behind,  
This hurricane of f lies,  
And I walked this line,  
A million and one f times,  
When there ain't nowhere you can go,  
Running away from pain,  
When you've been victimized,  
Tales from another broken home_

In her opinion, Green Day couldn't be more accurate.

After her jog, she took a shower. It was usually when she was taking a shower that the thoughts she tried so hard to run away from finally caught up to her. She hated being alone with her thoughts and realizing her life was a mess.

She hated messes.

She remembered that when she was younger, she always tried to keep everything organized. It was the only thing she had control of in her life. Now her life was spiraling out of control.

Whenever she felt like this, she just screamed her lungs out in the shower. She did this often. It was part of her routine to feeling clean and gaining the clarity of mind she would need later in the day. She needed to feel mentally prepared, but for the moment, she was just Sydney – the girl with nothing left to lose.

Well there was something to look forward to and that was having Vaughn back in her life. After her shower, she called Vaughn.

"Hello? Vaughn? Where are you?" she said after hearing his answering machine.

She noticed that the old message with him and Lauren had been replaced by "talk."

She couldn't blame him for his behavior. Like her father said, "it was something she could never understand."

Perhaps they did not give her any credit because she understood more than they could ever contemplate.

She had told her father, "He's not like you. He has me."

To which her father replied, "I don't want you getting hurt. Let him handle this on his own."

Leave it to her dad to make her feel useless. She knew that she felt like that, but secretly wishing someone would talk to her. She wouldn't let Vaughn feel alone like she did.

She decided to call him so that they could go out for breakfast together. Ever since the "incident," they've both been busy trying to get everything back to normal. Well, at least as normal as possible. Sydney was busy finding information about Project Christmas.

Vaughn on the other hand was going to both physical therapy and therapy with Dr. Barnett. At first he retaliated against Dixon's orders saying that it was unnecessary to see Dr. Barnett because he was fine. After threatening to suspend him, Vaughn reluctantly went to see Dr. Barnett for a few sessions. Aside from that, physical therapy took much of his time. After being stabbed and having one of his lung deflated, he had not been feeling well. Who would? After finding out your wife lied to you and then getting stabbed by your ex-love's aunt, I doubt you'd be fine either.

After leaving a message, "Vaughn, its me. Just wanted to know if you wanted to have breakfast together. I miss you. Call me when you get this message."

She decided to call his cell phone. After dialing, the phone rang.

He answered, "Vaughn speaking."

"Hey, honey. Where are you? I called you at home but you didn't pick up. Where are you so early in the morning?"

To which he replied, "I umm... I've found a lead on Lauren. (Static) I'll call you if I find anything."

She could barely understand what he was saying. There was too much static on the line. She thought that he was either on the move or very far away. Both of which was not good because he was in no condition to hunt for his ex-wife.

She could hear the hesitation in his voice and said, "Why are you doing this? Come home. You're in no condition to do this."

"Can't (static). She has to pay. (Static) Good luck on your mission. I'll see you soon. I have to do this. Please understand."

"Ok. But after all this is done, we're going on vacation."

After hearing nothing but static, she said. "Vaughn? Hello? Vaughn?"

She hung up after staring at her phone and noticing the phone had ended two minutes ago.

"I hope he knows what he's doing," she half-whispered.

She'd go after him but she knew her father had to be right. Perhaps Vaughn really had to do this. Well, she couldn't go looking for him now. If she told Dixon he was missing, it could lead to more problems for him. Also, she had a mission to take care of. Apparently, she was the only one who could do it out of the thousands of agents in the C.I.A.

"Oh Vaughn. How can I help you if you won't let me." She thought hugging her pillow.

After sitting on her bed and staring at her wall for a good five minutes, she pulled her suitcase from under her bed and began packing. As always duty called and she had to put work before her personal life – which was getting pretty hard since both intertwined.

"Now what to wear?" She chose two business suits, an outfit she called "hoochie" wear, sweats and a shirt to sleep in, and the traditional black op wear.

After folding everything perfectly and double-checking to make sure that she had the essentials: a cigarette lighter that acted as a radio frequency scrambler (disrupts all electronic devices within its proximity), lipstick that doubled as a spy camera, a Spanish coin that acted as a sonic wave emitter, and a couple of guns among her mini-arsenal. Oh and a toothbrush.

"Might as fight plaque and gum disease too, she thought."

Afterwards, she shut her suitcase and drove to LAX. As she was driving, she sang

_"To run, to run away,  
To find what you believe,  
And I leave behind,  
This hurricane of f lies"_


	3. Jack and Diane

**I'm not sure if I'm doing a crossover. Just for the fact that I don't know a lot about Lost since I've missed the last two episodes. Also, Lost focuses on the storylines of a lot of characters and I want to focus mainly on the relationship of Sark and Sydney. I'm just using the concept of them being 'lost' together on an island. I don't think I'm going to add the whole mysterious monster factor to the story because that would be a little too sci fic- ish… or maybe I should. I'm confused now. Lol. What would u like to read about? Anywayz, here's the next update. Sorry it sux. **

The sound of people chatting, the fasten seat belt light go on, and a baby crying in the distance filled the air. Sydney was seated next to a middle-aged business man who was busy typing away on his keyboard. She imagined that he'd probably have a wife and two kids – maybe even a dog. She'd like to have a 'normal' life like his.

She was snapped out of her thoughts when she heard, "Hi. Can I get you something to drink?"

She contemplated about getting a drink with alcohol or not. Then, she thought it'd be better not to and said, " I'll have a coke please."

The flight attendant handed her a napkin. Then, she heard the can top snap open followed by the sound of the soda pouring over the ice.

Shaking the glass, he looked at the deep red liquid. In his opinion, nothing compared to Château Pétrus, '82 especially after his treatment at the CIA. Sure he deserved the beating Agent Vaughn gave him after all he did sleep with his wife. Touching his face, he could still feel a twinge of pain. However, the black and blueness of the bruises were starting to disappear. It was worth seeing Agent Vaughn's face change into every shade of red imaginable. At least his scars were disappearing, but Agent Vaughn's 'scars' would remain forever.

Before leaving for the land down under, he treated himself to a nice shopping spree. He deserved it after being forced to wear the sorry excuse of clothes in eye sour orange. He needed to feel the touch of silk on his skin. He needed to feel it so much that he ordered five custom tailored silk suits. Hopefully, after this little mission he'd pick them up. Then, he bought three designer suits to wear for the trip. They made him feel important. Well that and because it drove women crazy. In fact, nearly every woman who saw him as he was being tailored couldn't stop staring. He looked like the very definition of 'sexy' in all black.

Now he was on board his private jet doing some research on his laptop and enjoying a glass of wine. He received an email from Irina stating that the extraction point had been changed to a nightclub in the heart of Sydney. In the email, she attached pictures and profiles of the men who would be selling the disk.

**SYDNEY. . . . . . . . . . . . . . ..........**

"Uck," she thought. She had just received a call from Dixon stating that the extraction point had been changed. She hated going to clubs. It's nothing but loud music and sweaty people squished together.

She had changed her wardrobe from a business suit, a caramel colored wig, and pumps for "clubbing wear."

"What was with the Covenant and meeting in clubs?"

She was looking at herself in the mirror, putting mascara on. She was wearing a black halter-top, black stilettos, and black plants. She wanted to wear the black miniskirt but she wouldn't have had a place to hide her gun. This time she wore her favorite red wig. It added a bit of color to her dark attire.

She was now in downtown Sydney. It was a beautiful city, with beautiful people. There really must be something in the water because all the guys were gorgeous.

After taking a taxi from the hotel, she arrived at a club called "Cave." She went to the bouncer and stated her name, "Diane Deneve. I believe I'm on the list."

Immediately, the velvet rope was removed and she was allowed in. Once she entered, the music blasted and the strobe lights blinded her as she tried to look for the Covenant 'smucks' that had the disk. She immediately noticed them because there were two well-dressed bodyguards on either side of them.

Behind the two goons, she saw Sark talking with a man, obviously the one in possession of the disk. She approached one of the guards and told him she had a meeting. Then, the guard whispered into the ears of the man, and she noticed him telling the guard to bring her to them.

In a french accent, she said, "I'm Mademoiselle Diane Deneve. I believe my boss requires something of yours."

"Well, I'm afraid you have competition. This young man is offering twice as much" said the man.

Sark approached her looking too well dressed to be in a club.

He began, "I don't believe we've met." With a big smirk plastered on his face. "I'm Jack."

She reached for his hands, and said, "Enchanté" between her teeth.

Sark could feel as well as hear the bones in his hand cracking in her tight grip. He retracted his hand after she "shook" it out of life.

"My you've got quite a grip, Diane." With a big emphasis on her alias.

She smiled but her eyes showed pure distaste making Sark smile even more.

He turned to the man, "I'm afraid Diane here is afraid of a little competition Mr. Taylor."

"I'll match whatever his deal is," Sydney replied in a confident tone. She knew her offer was much more appealing to him by the way he was looking at her.

"You see the problem is, my boss decides. Now that we have two offers, both of you must meet him personally."

"Is that really necessary?" Sydney asked, using her sex appeal to make this 'loser' change his mind.

"I'm afraid it is."

"Well when do we meet him?" Sark asked in an over-confident tone.

"Right now if you're willing. There's a limousine waiting outside. I'll have the chauffer drop you at your hotels so you can pick up your belongings. You'll be going on a little trip" replied Mr. Taylor.

They were lead by the goons to the limousine. They rode staring at each other, knowing that anything said could break both their covers.

**Thanx to _cheekymelly_ for pointing out my spelling error. I love the French language… it's so sexy and sophisticated. Too bad that five years of French didn't really stick as evident with my spelling error. I'm so embarrassed. Lol.**

**Oh I named the chapter after that song about Jack and Diane, two American kids leaving in the heartland... la la la.I'm gonna stop myself b4 I get carried away. I might change Sark's Alias if I make the story a crossover though. Still haven't decided… cuz I like both ideas.**


	4. Like What You See?

**Squee! Thanx for all your reviews and kind words. **Nothing degrading yet, but it's still early. Lol. This next update is just one filled with dialogue. **I haven't decided how they should get stranded. I** have two ideas and if you let me know what you want, I'll write about it. Thanx to Karone by the way who gave me another idea.

As I was saying, they could **get stranded by themselves OR** they could get **stranded with other people from LOST.** Both involve a plane crash; it's just the type of plane crash… a jet or a commercial plane. **If you want them to get stranded with other people from Lost, who should it be? Y**our feedback is very important and will help me develop this story better. **Anyway, watch the sparks fly!! Enjoy!**

"Unfreaking believable," she thought. Of all the people in the world, (she stared straight at him giving him the infamous Bristow death-stare) **it had to be HIM**.

He was seated at the back of the limo, while she sat across from him.

He tried to avoid her stare in the beginning but after awhile he just said, _"**Like what you see?"**_ in the same arrogant manner he'd always spoken to her.

This only made her stare harder at him as she said, _"You wish."_

Her comment only made him chuckle and make that charming smirk of his appear once more. As he laughed at her comment, he folded his arms.

To Sydney, he was probably thinking about a good comeback or an evil plan. Either way, she'd kick his ass. She was in no mood to resuming their verbal judo. Well if any judo was involved, it would be one where she knocked him around a couple times.

He sighed and put his hand through his slowly reappearing curls in a cool, calm manner.

"_We really should stop meeting like this,"_ he said trying to break the silence and her stare.

He'd seen the same stare on her father and mother and quite frankly it made him uneasy. Only a few people could do that and those were the only two people who could. However, Sydney's stare was coming close to the intensity of her mother's. In his opinion, the award for the most terrifying stare went to Jack Bristow's which always gave him goose bumps.

"_Pardonne-moi,"_ she replied.

He stared at her. She could feel his eyes covering her body.

He did not realize that her stare could get fiercer. If she could kill him with her eyes, he'd be dead a long time ago.

"_In clubs."_ He paused to see her reaction.

He continued after noticing her stare lightened up a bit, just a bit.

"_We always meet in clubs. Yet the first time we'd meet, I remember you were wearing a rather provocative outfit and singing a lovely song. Not that I'm saying that the outfit you're wearing now is not…"_

She interrupted him before he could even finish his sentence. She went closer to him, so he could notice that she wasn't playing around. Then, she grabbed him by the collar and spoke directly into his ear.

"_Ecoute-moi, you bastard. I don't have time for chitchat. Now listen carefully. If you piss me off again, I'll have you back in that cell and this time (she paused) you won't escape."_

She released him and went back to her original seat.

He was not shocked by her behavior but was rather indifferent to it. Instead, he straightened out his suit and said to her, _"If you don't play nice, mademoiselle, I won't either."_

In an acidic tone, she said: _"Look, we obviously have a dilemma here. Now if you're a good little assassin and don't give my cover away, I'll do the same." _

She realized that if he blew her cover, she'd be screwed because all she had for backup was Weiss. He was a good fighter but she'd seen Sark in action. Weiss was no match for Sark, an assassin who killed with finesse and pleasure. Not like she couldn't take down Sark all by herself, she could do it even in three-inch stilettos. Plus, she still needed to get the disk.

He raised his eyebrow, _"So we're coming to some sort of arrangement. What do I get out of this? Let me guess. A complimentary stay in a cell?"_

His sarcasm was charming but at the same time it made her want to smack the shit out of him.

"_No. The agreement is if you behave, I won't kill you."_

He chuckled, _"My you're quite the negotiator."_

He paused_. "Who could resist such an offer? I either get killed or go to a closet-sized cell. What a difficult decision." _

He stared at her_, "Then again, I could tell them you're an agent of the CIA. They'd kill you and I'd get the disk."_

He gave her a devilish smile, _"Yes. I think my idea is far more beneficial to me. Don't you agree?"_

She smiled, _"Or I could tell them who you really are. They'd kill you for being a traitor and then I'd get the disk. Yes. I think my idea is even better. Plus, I don't have to do the dirty work."_

He looked at her, "_What makes you think I won't kill you now… or even later?"_

She stared straight at him, "_I don't_."

"_What makes you think I won't?" she said with a smile._

He was intrigued. She was exactly like her mother, which scared him. He learned from experience that it was not intelligent to argue or go against a Derevko.

He replied, "_Very well then. I scratch your back and you stab mine_."

They had come to an agreement. Though one filled with threats and death wishes, it was an agreement nonetheless. Yet, the problem was who would get the disk in the end.

Sydney just stared at him. His words unnerved her because he spoke the truth. She would betray him in the end. It was her job. She wouldn't let one of the ten most wanted terrorist escape. No, she'd haul his ass back into the CIA. Interesting, he said it as if it was nothing.


	5. Silence

_I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in forever. I was motivated when I find out that Alyce was dying to find out more. I kinda got "lost" myself with school, tests, and the holiday season. Well thatand I'm a procrastinator. In celebration of a New Year and in honor of my resolution to not kill anyone this year... Here's a long-overdue chapter. Thanx again for all the reviews. Apologizes because it's a bit crappy._

**Chapter 5: Silence Part 1**

The silence was deafening. They had not spoken a single word to each other since their short conversation. Through experience, both had learned that it was better to say as little as possible because talking too much usually lead to more problems.

She had been starring out her window since then. The bright lights of the signboards reflected on the window and in her eyes as she was pretending to be interested in the people walking outside.

Normally, awkward silences bothered her but this time it didn't. The silence gave her an opportunity to enjoy the view of downtown Sydney. Sark himself seemed occupied by the changing scenery.

As long as he wasn't staring at her it was just fine. She hated when people stared at her. But mostly, she hated when he stared at her. It was as if the pupils of his cerulean eyes became like magnifying glasses. It felt like he was staring into her heart, her soul, and her thoughts. She didn't like it.

She finally felt relieved when the limo pulled up to her hotel and the doorman opened the door for her. Finally, the night was coming to an end.

She began walking; listening for the limo to move on. To her surprise, it didn't. Instead, Sark stepped out.

_"Of course. This is the most expensive hotel in the city,"_ she thought.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him give the doorman a tip. She walked straight through the lobby and into the elevator. She tried to walk quickly without making it to obvious that she was trying to.

She saw him stop to talk to the concierge. The elevator doors were about to close when he saw his hand slip through and he walked in.

_"Why me?"_ she slightly shook her head as she pretended to be preoccupied by the digital number above that showed what floor they were on.

"_Thank you for waiting_," he said rubbing his arm as if to show her that he was nearly crushed by the elevator doors.

She contemplated beating him up but ended up replying in a mock-polite tone, "_Oh. No problem."_

She saw him slide his hotel card into a special slot for the penthouse.

_"What a surprise,"_ she thought. It did not surprise her that he stayed in the penthouse. She on the other hand was on the twelfth floor, but she hit the button for the fifteenth floor. It was better if he did not know exactly what floor she was on.

He leaned against the elevator wall and looked out glass. The glass elevator looked straight into the city.

The silence was finally broken when the elevator arrived at her floor with a "ding." She walked out without turning back to him.

She had just stepped out when he said, _"Good night mademoiselle."_

He had to have the last word. She walked down the hall towards the stairwell and opened the door. She walked three floors down with only the sound of her shoes clicking and clanking on the steel steps and echoing throughout the stairwell.

_"Next time, no heels,"_ she said to herself.

She finally reached the twelfth floor and walked to her room. She opened the door with her key. As she was about to enter, she saw Weiss holding a gun towards the door.

_"Relax Weiss, it's me,"_ she said.

Seeing his friendly face made her cold façade break down, regardless of the fact that he was holding a gun to her before.

_"So how was it? Another easy mission right?"_ he asked as he began typing on his laptop.

She took of her wig and shoes.

_"I'll call Dixon to let him know you have the disk and we can get out of here,"_ he continued.

He stopped typing when she said,_ " Weiss there's a problem."_

He looked at her, his smiling face changing to one of concern.

_"Sark,"_ she said straightforwardly.

"_What? He was there. You should have broke radio silence to tell me. Something could have happened to you."_

_"He was there to buy the disk,"_ she said. She never liked making Weiss worry. He was a good friend, always there when she needed one.

_"He got the disk!?"_ he asked believing that to be part of the problem.

_"He didn't."_ She paused. _"But I didn't either. The operative said that since there are two offers, we have to meet his boss personally."_

_"Syd. You can't. It could be a trap. How do you know Sark isn't working with them?"_

_"I don't,"_ she replied as she sat on the bed. She noticed he was watching football. Well, at least pretending so that no one could hear them.

_"Hey. I've got an idea. We could arrest Sark. You could go tomorrow and because he won't be there, you could buy the disk. Then, we'd go home with the disk and Sark."_ He smiled knowing that his ideal was very promising.

_"Sounds good but we don't have the manpower to do it,"_ she replied.

_"What are you talking about? You and me could take him down blindfolded. No problem. Besides, I epitomize manpower."_ which made her smile.

He continued, _"Do you know where he is?"_

"_Actually. He's here,"_ she said almost shyly because she had forgotten to mention that in the beginning.

_"What!? Here?!" _shocked by what she said. It was funny how he went from serious to funny to serious to shocked in less that two minutes.When needed, he could be stone cold.

_"Penthouse."_

_"Okay. Here's the plan. We'll call Dixon and let him know about all this_."

She lied on the bed starring at the ceiling listening to him.

"_We can't arrest Sark. It'll look suspicious_."

_"It could be a trap_," he pointed out.

Rubbing her face she said, "_If it's not, he could end up getting the disk."_

"_Syd. You're not telling me that you're going to get on a plane with a terrorist to buy something from the Covenant_."

"_I have to especially since…"_ she paused.

"_Look. I hate the bastard just as much as you do. You can't do it just to compete with him."_

"_Weiss. I'm not doing that. I have a mission and I plan on accomplishing it."_

"_Well, I'm going to give Dixon a call to let him know about this new development_."

She nodded and told him she was going to take a shower because walking into the club made her feel dirty.

Meanwhile, Weiss called Dixon who said that it would be better if Sydney meet the seller and bought the disk. Then, when she returned they would arrest Sark along with the Covenant operatives.

_Part 2 will be posted soon. I just have to rewrite it since it's mostly drabble. Don't worry this time soon doesn't mean two months._


	6. Stillness

**Thanx for ur reviews. Sorri for that sleepy chapter. To make up for it, here's part two.**

**Ch.6: Stillness (Silence Part 2)**

The following day, she left a very worried Weiss. She assured him that compared to everything she's been through this mission would be simple.

Weiss was mostly worried because she didn't wear any radios knowing that communication devices could easily be spotted since it messed with the plane's navigation. She'd be on her own if anything should happen. However, she did have a tracking device on the heel of her shoe that would only be activated when she clicked the heel twice.

The elevator reflection showed that she was wearing a black pantsuit, a red blouse underneath, a black sun-hat, and black shades. The attire hid the fact that she had two guns strapped to her legs. The only way they would find them is if they went near her legs. Of course that would be when she was shooting them for even going near her.

Then again, she wore the outfit because nothing really went with her red hair. The outfit served both fashion and practicality in her opinion.

In her hands, she had her purse and her suitcase. In her suitcase, were her clothes and personal belongings (toothbrush, soap, shampoo, brush, makeup, etc) atop her gadgets, which were hidden under a compartment. Thanks to Marshall's design, not even an x-ray could spot what lay inside it. Even if they searched her suitcase, they wouldn't find the compartment. Marshall was even kind enough to make it Channel.

In her matching Channel purse, she had lipstick/knockout gas, a blackberry, mints, pen/knife, fake passports, a wallet with fake ids, credit cards, and money.

She had received a phone call from the Front Desk with a message from Mr. Taylor saying that the limo would be picking her up at ten.

It was exactly ten when she walked through the lobby, spotting Sark in his signature black attire. He was sitting, reading the paper with a cup of tea nearby. He glanced at her when he heard the wheels of her trolley rolling on the marble floor.

He smiled behind the paper was reading. He heard the wheels stop in front of him. He put the paper down and stood up. To most people in the lobby, they looked like a handsome couple... aside from the fact that they stood apart from each other.

They didn't have time for another one of their witty banters because the chauffer approached them. He looked at both of them and said,_ "Good Morning. Mr. Taylor will be meeting you at the airport."_

The chauffer placed both their suitcases in the trunk and ran to open the door for Sydney. Sark followed and both sat where they sat the night before.

He looked at her and asked,_ "Sleep well?"_

She replied, _"Very."_

She shook her head because there he was staring at her again. Lucky for him, her shades prevented him from staring into her eyes.

Within minutes, they arrived at a deserted airport and in front of a private jet. The chauffer opened the door and Sark stepped out first. To her surprise, he offered his hand to help her out. Instead of crushing his hands, she took his kind gesture and even gave a convincing smile when she spotted Mr. Taylor.

Mr. Taylor greeted them, _"Good Morning. Let's get in shall we?"_

Sark followed first. She didn't want him following her, checking her out as she climbed the steps into the jet.

The jet was lavishly decorated with crème colored leather seats. They took seats across from each other while Mr. Taylor went into the cockpit.

Both noticed the guards from the nightclub checking out their suitcases. They didn't find anything and placed them in a compartment.

Mr. Taylor returned and looked at the guards, who shook their heads stating that their suitcases were clean.

He looked to them and said,_ "Good to see that you didn't bring anything dangerous."_

Syd smiled and asked,_ "Should we have?"_

Taylor continued, "_The pilot informed me that we should be arriving at our destination in four hours."_

Sark finally spoke and asked, "_Where is the destination?"_ He turned to Sydney and continued, "_ I don't know about you mademoiselle, but I like to know where I'm going."_

Taylor interrupted and said, "_You'll find out once we get there. As for now, enjoy the trip. If there is anything you need just let me know." _Then, he returned back to the cockpit.

Sydney felt a bit nervous after what Sark said. "_Where exactly are we going?"_ she thought to herself. "_He's just messing with me"_ as she looked at him reading a magazine.

They had been flying for three hours already. She had been reading the same magazine for two hours. In the magazine, she learned five quick steps to look more refreshed when you're exhausted.

Throughout the flight, she noticed that the goons had been staring at them. Something told her something was going on but acted like she didn't know. At one point, she asked one of the goons, _"Like what you see?"_

Sark smiled at that and nodded his head. _"Sydney Bristow can be very feisty when she wants to,"_ he thought.

Sydney saw Sark smile and thought, _"Oh great. I'm starting to sound like him. What's worse, he knows it."_

She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts when Mr. Taylor came from the cockpit.

He asked,_ "I hope you've been enjoying your trip."_

She noticed Sark didn't show any emotion except for the slight eyebrow twitch. All of sudden the two goons stood up and took out their guns.

Sydney kept the same expression as Sark and asked, "_What is zees all about?"_

Mr. Taylor smiled, _"You can't cut the French Ms. Bristow."_

She shot him a dirty look and said, _"What are jew talking about?"_

He chuckled, "_Now. Now. You didn't think we didn't know who you were?"_

As he said that, another two goons came from the cockpit with some serious looking guns.

_"Are you serious?"_ replied Sark shaking his head.

Mr. Taylor turned to him, "_The indestructible Ms. Bristow and the infamous Mr. Sark. Imagine to our surprise when we learned that our little disk not only brought one but two great spies like yourselves."_

He continued, _"At least Ms. Bristow had the decency to have an accent and play dress up. But you, Mr. Sark, you didn't even try."_

Sydney dropped the French accent and asked, "_What do you want?"_

Mr. Taylor looked to her, "_What we want…"_ he smiled.

_"Is right here. With the two of you out of the picture, the Covenant can finally function…"_ he paused. _"Without anymore interruptions_."

Sydney started tapping her hands fervently on her lap.

Mr. Taylor looked to her and said, "_Don't be nervous Ms. Bristow. I asure you, this will be quick and painless_."

Sark looked at her and noticed that she was giving him a message in morse code. _Tap tap tatta tap tap_.

_"I hope he understands what I'm doing. The son of a bitch better not have anything to do with this_," she thought.

Sark looked at her from the corner of his eyes and noticed she was telling him to, "_Take the two on the left and she would take the two on the right."_

Mr. Taylor went up close to Sydney. Then, he grabbed some of her hair and smelled it.

"_What a shame. You're very beautiful_," he said into her ear.

She turned to him and touched his hand gently. She looked into his eyes, "_Please don't hurt me_."

All of a sudden, she took his hand and smacked him in the face with it. Mr. Taylor held his face in pain and she knocked him out. Then, she rolled up her pant legs and grabbed her guns.

Guns were blasting all over the place. A huge monster of a man came over to Sydney and grabbed her from the back while another goon came towards her with a gun. She elbowed the goon from the back and then the other one started to fire at her. She jumped behind one of the seats and fired a single bullet straight into the middle of his head.

The one she had elbowed came towards again. She grabbed a champagne bottle she spotted on the ground and smacked him in the head with it. Shards of glass flew everywhere. To her surprise, the guy was still standing as pissed as ever.

_"Shit,"_ she thought. _"What's his head made of?"_

Meanwhile, Sark had already shot one goon in the kneecaps immediately after he saw Sydney smack Taylor in the face.

He was still brawling with another goon. He had blood dripping from his lips where the goon had punched him. He was busy shooting the other goon when this guy had come out from behind him and punched him in the face.

Sark stared at him and wiped the blood from his lips. He looked at the blood on his fingers and up to the guy.

_"You'll pay for that,"_ he said.

Then, Sark took a swing at the torso of the guy knocking the wind out of him. As the guy was crunched over, Sark kicked him in the stomach. When the guy was sprawled on the floor, he took his baretta and shot the guy in the back of the head.

He looked at his gun, _"I told you_." He paused and touched his lips again. "_You would pay for that,_" and he shot him again.

Sark was caught by surprise when his legs were grabbed from under him by the guy he shot in the kneecaps. He stumbled to the ground besides him. The guy started punching the shit out of him.

As he fell, Sark had dropped his baretta behind a seat. In a swift motion, he kicked the guy in the face and then grabbed the gun. He shot the bastard right in the chest. But the guy grabbed him by the shirt, blood gurgling from his mouth and dropped to the floor.

All the while, Sydney was dodging the "hardheaded" goon who was swinging a knife at her. She had dropped both her guns when they came at her. He had already cut her arm as she tried to knock it out of his hands. She keep walking backwards, looking for something to hit the guy with. Then, all of a sudden she was stuck against the wall.

She could already feel the gun in her gut until she heard a shot. Then, the goon with the knife dropped right in front of her. All she heard was the sound of a gun followed by the sound of the knife falling to the ground.

As she watched the goon drop to the ground, she was surprised to see Sark holding his gun straight at her.

She smiled and said, "_Thanks."_

As she was saying that, she saw Mr. Taylor coming from the cockpit right behind Sark.

The silence was broken when a shot rang throughout the cabin. He was dead.

_Hope this makes up for the crappie chapter I made you guys read before. Hope the fight scene made sense. Reviews are always appreciated. Thanx_


	7. Breathe

: Grabs a broom and sweeps away cobwebs and dust: I'm so sorry that it took me forever to update. You know how it is, school always getting in the way of valuable Alias time. Without further ado, here's the next chapter.

**Chapter 7: Breathe**

She was awakened by the sound of waves crashing against the shore and birds chirping in the distance. She slowly opened her eyes to see the midday sun shining brightly above her. A gentle breeze caressed her face carrying along with it the smell of the ocean and smoke. She squinted her eyes in pain. She felt dizzy. It was as if her head had gone through a washing machine on the spin cycle. Shaking it, she closed her eyes and tried to focus on what happened.

**Flashback **

He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as oxygen traveled from his nose to his lungs. All the adrenaline rushing to his veins made him feel invincible. His heart was beating rapidly as beads of sweat lined his forehead.

He didn't have a chance to catch his breath when he felt metal piercing into his skin - the pain passing from the nerves to his brain and back in a manner of seconds. His cerulean eyes changing into black as his pupils dilated in pain and surprise.

Crimson dripped from his hands as he looked up to see Sydney pointing her beretta straight at him. The sound of the trigger cocking echoed in his ears. He could practically see the bullet traveling from the chamber into the barrel and then leaving the shaft. It was as if time stood still.

He dropped to his knees as Sydney walked closer and closer to him. As she drew closer, the sound of her baretta firing intensified. Suddenly, she was above him breathing heavily. He closed his eyes after he watched Sydney raise her baretta at him.

His body dropped onto the control panel in the cockpit with a loud thud after Sydney fired again.

Slowly, Sark opened his eyes to see Sydney fire five bullets straight into Taylor who had just stuck a knife into his back. Luckily, Sydney shot Taylor before he could cause severe damage. That, however, didn't delude the fact that it hurt like a bitch.

"Shit," she thought realizing that some of the bullets ricocheted and hit the control panel. Within seconds, buttons began blinking while alarms blared and wires were burning. She watched in horror as the barometer began decreasing while the plane twisted and titled.

Her thoughts were broken when she heard Sark shout, "You are so good, do you know that? But, I don't suppose you can fly a plane?"

She looked at Taylor's limp body, his eyes wide open and blood dripping from his mouth onto the floor. She narrowed her eyes in frustration. "No wonder you where always in the cockpit. You were the fucking pilot," she thought.

She turned around to see Sark biting his lip staring at her with vacant eyes. She returns the stare with pure coldness, "No. I don't suppose you can?"

After swallowing the blood in his mouth, he moves his left hand to his back. With a groan, he quickly pulls the knife out. With the knife in his hands, "I'm afraid I don't."

After placing the knife on his belt, he slowly gets up by placing one hand on the ground then kneeling on one leg. He grabs hold of the arm of a seat and gets up as gracefully as he could.

Pretending that Sydney didn't notice his "moment of weakness," he stands straight ignoring the pain in his shoulder.

"I suggest we look for parachutes unless of course you prefer crashing to your death," he replied showing her that his sarcasm was still in tact.

"I save his life and he's still an ass," she thought. She follows him into the cabin and begins searching through the bins. After opening nearly ten bins, she only found the typical terrorists' amenities that included bottles of Crystal and an artillery of guns. She had just grabbed her suitcase when she heard Sark.

"I'm afraid there's only one," Sark said holding the parachute in the air for her to see.

She held her hand out, "Well then give it to me!"

He withdrew the parachute giving her a devilish grin, "I found it."

"I saved your life," her eyes narrowing in annoyance as she began raising her baretta, "And I can take it back."

He nodded towards his back, "You call that saving."

"We don't have time to argue," holding the baretta straight at him. She couldn't believe he had the nerve to be ungrateful.

"Alright…" raising his hand telling her to wait, "What if I wear it?"

He heard the trigger click, "Let me finish."

She watched as he placed the straps of the parachute on his shoulders and looked at her, "And you hold onto me."

She lowered her gun and looked at him questionably, "What?"

"Well, you can't carry me. Can you?"

Before she could protest, the plane suddenly dipped and she bumped into him. Immediately, Sark wrapped his arms around her waist - his touch sending shivers down her spine. She could feel his smirk grow on his face as he clipped the belt around them.

The plane dipped again and they bumped into the door. Sark grabbed hold of the latch and opened it. Immediately the cabin became like a vacuum as the air was sucked out causing debris to fly around them. Taking a good look at the passing clouds, Sydney reluctantly wrapped her arms around his back causing them to face each other. He cringed when she accidentally touched his shoulder where the knife had pierced him.

"Oh yeah. I feel safe," she replied, feeling the moisture from his blood on her fingers.

He cleared his throat saying, "I assure you that I won't let you fall…" Then, held her tighter and continued, "It's just a little scratch." Surprisingly enough, his words didn't comfort her.

He whispered into her ear, "On the count of three."

She nodded and closed her eyes, "Three."

Endless blue sky and swirls of white clouds surrounded them as they plummeted at rapid speed. None of them could talk, their hearts moving to their throats from the force of the gravity. The only thing that comforted her were his strong arms holding onto her.

All of a sudden, she felt Sark grab the parachute cord. They both jolted as the parachute opened and they floated above the ocean. It felt like they had been floating for hours until they plunged into the ocean.

Sark immediately let go of the belt releasing them. Holding her breath, she followed Sark and swam for the surface.

He gave her a weak smile, "You alright?"

She was still gasping for air and just nodded, "Yes."

He looked to her and pointed to huge plumes of black smoke arising from where the plane had just crashed.

"Land," he told her.

She started swimming and he followed.

**End Flashback **

As she began to recall everything, her memories faded into vague images as she fell back into unconsciousness. The only thing she could remember was that swimming until her arms felt like jelly.

**2nd Flashback **

They had been swimming for thirty minutes - the closer they got, the more difficult it was to move. "I hope I don't attract any sharks," he thought as he swam behind Sydney who was five feet ahead of him.

It was difficult to keep up with Sydney because his shoulder was throbbing in pain. The salt of the ocean caused his wound to sting like acid causing him to nearly faint.

In the distance, he could see smoke from the plane crash and palm trees lining the shore. They were swaying in the wind taunting him. He snapped out of his trance when he noticed Sydney had slowed down and he was catching up to her.

He called out to her, "Tired already Agent Bristow?"

All of a sudden, he watched in horror as Sydney began to sink. He yelled, "Agent Bristow?" as he swam with all of his might towards her.

He took a deep breath and dove into the ocean. His heart beat faster and faster as he watched her descend deeper into the ocean depths. Sydney's red hair resembled a jellyfish disappearing into the darkness.

Her eyes were closed as he grabbed her with all his strength. His lungs felt like they were going to explode as he clung onto the little bit of air he had left as he saw towards the sun gleaming above.

He gasped for air and held onto Sydney's lifeless body. He carefully wiped hair away from her angelic face. Then, drew his face towards her but he couldn't feel air coming from her lips or nose - she wasn't breathing.

He thought, "Indestructible indeed," wrapping his arms around her and began swimming towards the shore.

It was so much easier to just to let her go. Instead, he grinned his teeth and held onto her. He wasn't even sure if he was swimming to the shore or if the lost of blood was making him see things.

As he got closer to shore, huge waves crashed completely over them. Within minutes, he could feel the sand on the ocean floor beneath him. He nearly dropped her as he cradled her in his arms from exhaustion. Nevertheless, he garnered whatever strength he had left and walked a little further. When he reached dry land, he dropped to his knees and placed her gently on the ground.

Beads of water dripped from his head as he leaned over her still body. He watched to see if her chest was rising – it wasn't. After tilting her head, he took a deep breath. Then, gently placed his lips over hers. When nothing happened, he looked to her still closed eyes. Then, placed his hands over her chest and pushed three times.

Immediately, Sydney gasped for air after the water escaped her lips.

**End Flashback **

_Thanx to Karone for always reviewing! Ur the best! This is just a "rough" draft of chapter 7. I might vamp it up a bit and make it more descriptive._


	8. Ruby Slippers

As always, my apologizes for the delayed update. School's fault! I know. I know. It's going slow. I'm trying to speed up the process. I finally had time. Well made time to put down my thoughts. If only they gave a B.S. in Sarkney at least I would do my work.

**Ch.8 Ruby Slippers**

Grains of sand scraped his face as he turned his head to where the source of the sound was coming from. He slowly opened his eyes to see Sydney sitting with her shoe high in the air. The next thing he watched was quite humorous. She was smacking the shoe on the ground in an angry fashion. He had never seen her look so child-like. For the most part, she acted like robo-spy.

Sand was flying all over the place. She was so frustrated that she began hitting the shoe harder causing more and more sand to go into the air. There were huge dents in the sand surrounding her where she had already hit her shoe. Her thoughts were broken when she heard a familiar cocky laugh.

She held the shoe in midair and turned to look at Sark lying on his side with his hand propped up under his head. She blew at a piece of her hair that had blown in front of her face. Then, looked at him with pure venom.

"You think this is funny!" waving her shoe towards the burning plane in the distance.

He was in so much pain but he was having too much fun to worry about it. His entire body was sore, even parts he didn't imagine would be. He slowly sat up with his arms around his legs with a huge smirk plastered on his face. He winced once trying to sit up but the smirk was done pain free.

"Actually." He paused knowing that it would annoy her. "Yes."

"That cocky son-of-a-bitch," she thought. Out of nowhere, she takes her shoe and throws it at him.

He was surprised by her action and narrowly misses being hit in the head by the pointy weapon.

He catches it with the heel pointing towards his head.

"Easy there Elvira. You could have killed me with this." He remarks, looking up at her with the shoe hanging on his finger by the heel.

"I can't believe this is happening to me. No wait. It's me. Of course this is happening," she thinks.

"Give it back to me," holding her hand out to him.

"Tsk-tsk. Why should I? You might actually finish the job. I would hate to be killed by a pair of Jimmy Choos," teasing her by twirling the shoe around his finger.

"The tracking device isn't working," she replied in a blunt tone. Then, she exhaled deeply trying to calm.

"O.K.," he stopped twirling the shoe and gave her a "so what look."

"The chip is fried. It's not working," her moment of calm gone, she was now pointing to the shoe menacingly.

Curiously, he looks at the sharp heel of the shoe. He always had a thing for women and stilettos. There was something about the way it made their legs look especially when they wore short skirts and their hips sway as they walk on these stilt-like contraptions. He had no idea how Sydney could have fought or even walked in these things. It was something that truly amazed him among many things.

"What I am trying to say is," talking to him like he was the dumbass she knew he was.

After throwing her other shoe at him she continues, "We are stranded on this island."

He tilts his head to the right dodging her other shoe then raises one brow, "I'm sure your beloved CIA will come looking for you."

He pauses looking at her shoe, "Then of course it might take two years so we shouldn't get our hopes up." He looks up at her giving her a huge grin.

She didn't want to admit it but he was right. After all, it was a Covenant plane and they flew under the radar. There was also the fact that she did not exactly know where she was going, if they were going anywhere in the first place. Then again there was her dad but it took him a while to find her too. That would mean that she would have to be with Sark for more than a day if not more. She didn't like her predicament at all.

"Weiss was right," she thought. "Oh no. Poor Weiss. My dad is going to kill him."

"Worried are we?" Sark replied with a mocking tone.

"You know of all the things I would bring to a deserted island with me..." She pauses staring at him, her eyes narrowing, "You were not one of them."

He stops twirling the shoe and points it at her, "Well, you aren't exactly the swimsuit model I asked for."

"Bastard. Who the hell does he think he is? What does he mean I'm not a swimsuit model? At least mine are real," she thinks.

Her thoughts are broken when he says, "At least you could show me a bit of gratitude."

She gives him a mock-surprise look, "Gratitude? For what? Getting me stuck on an island with a no good, expensive-suit wearing, wannabe James Bond, crazy ass…assin."

He drops the shoe, "Well, that's the last time I do an act of chivalry."

He looks straight at her, "And to think that I nearly drowned saving you."

She looks at him confused, "You. Save. Me?"

"Yes. What did you think? You floated her. Trust me. You are not light enough to float," he bites his lip knowing that he went a bit overboard with the last comment.

Thinking back, she can only remember being in the water and waking up on the beach. She could still feel the soreness in her arms. Immediately, flashbacks of the events start flying through her head. She remembers the fight on the plane, killing Taylor, parachuting down together, and then swimming towards the shore.

She remembers waking up gasping for air but the rest is blurry. They are just vague images and sounds. Slowly she raises her hands to her lips.

"He saved me?" her eyebrow rising in confusion.

"No. He couldn't have." Looking up at him. "Why would he?"

**Flashback**

_Her eyes opened in shock as water escaped her lips. She can feel his arms cradle her as she started coughing, her lungs burning from the lack of oxygen._

_She looks up at him. She notices that his fierce blue eyes are weak and tired. She is surprised that he looks so caring and concerned._

_She stops coughing and he slowly places her head to the ground. She notices that he is breathing heavily and his body is trembling. Within minutes, her eyes begin closing from the pain and exhaustion. She begins blinking when she notices that he drops to the ground. She wants to help him but she falls back into unconsciousness._


	9. Judo

Thanks so much for your wonderful reviews. I'm so embarrassed that I don't update as often as I would like. As always both my apologizes and thanks.

**Chapter 9 Judo**

She looks up at him, the sound of the waves mimicking the rush of memories flooding her mind. The palm trees and sun setting create a shadow over Sark who has placed both shoes besides him. She moves from the glaring sun and into the shadow where she can see his face.

Cautiously she asks, "Why are you being nice?"

"I'm not." He pauses looking at her, "I'm just being a gentleman."

Her face showing not but scorn, "Regardless, I still don't trust you."

Bluntly he tells her, "You shouldn't."

He loved playing these games with her. He was very skilled in the art of verbal judo and surprised that she was just as skilled.

"He is unbelievable," she thinks. Once again she lets him have the "last" word.

She watches him return his gaze towards the setting sun – the blue water glittering below the pink and violet sky. She turns around and starts walking towards the plane.

He turns to watch her, a bit pleased that he won this round. When he can barely see her, he slowly gets up to follow her. He winces, his body screaming in pain, as he gets up and brushes the sand off him. He cracks his back and is quickly reminded of his wound. He tries to move his hand to his back but even that is too painful. Reluctantly, he takes a deep breath and follows the footprints Sydney left behind.

It doesn't take him long to reach the remnants of the plane. The air reeking of sulfur as small fires still burn. He hears her shuffling metal as she scavengers through the rubble. Then, notices that she has created a pile of things in the corner. In the pile, he notices a bottle of champagne and drops down beside it.

He blows away the sand and dirt and reads, "Louis Roederer Cristal 1974."

"Not a bad year," he thinks as he opens the bottle. Immediately, he takes a drink of the delicious liquid. As he was just putting down the bottle, he sees Sydney holding a suitcase.

He licks his lips and holds the bottle up to her, "Care for some."

He moves the bottle, "It's a bit warm. I'd ask for some ice but your glare makes it cold enough for me."

She realizes that her mouth is dry and remarks, "I would."

She watches him move the bottle towards her, "But I don't know where your mouth has been."

He takes another sip, "The same place where Agent Vaughn has."

She tries to remember if she found a gun. She'd love to shot him in the ass right about now so that he would feel what a pain in the ass he was to her. What really annoyed her is that he spoke the truth. However, this time she wouldn't let him have the last word.

She drops the suitcase and pushes him to the ground. He refrains from wincing and just looks up at her in pure coldness. She stares directly at him and notices his slight twitch as she pushes him harder into the sand.

She watches him wince again, "Listen hear you piece of shit. I'm tired of listening to your bullshit. If you don't shut the fuck up, I'll shot you so you do."

She pushes him to the ground then grabs the suitcase. As she walks away, he sits up and dusts the sand from his jacket.

From behind her, she hears him say "Usually, I have to buy someone a drink before the fun begins. But if you wanted to skip the drink, all you had to do was say so."

He is surprised when he feels her hands on his back. Immediately, he groans as she touches his wound.

"You like it rough," she pushes at his wound harder, "Then, we'll play." She holds his left arm back causing his eyes to water up. Instead of crying out in pain, he smirks at her.

She whispers into his ear, "If you want to use your arm, I suggest you put your foot in your..."

She is taken off guard when he pushes her to the ground and is now above her. He holds her arms over her head and looks at her. She struggles, surprised that he still had the strength to keep her down and pissed off that he does.

"I do like it rough," a huge grin plastered on his face.

The smirk disappears as he says, "But a simple 'thank you' would have sufficed," and lets her go.


	10. Wounds

_I finally updated. I apologize for the long delay. As always, many thanks for your encouraging reviews._

**Ch. 10 Wounds**

She stops struggling and he lets go of her wrists. The tension is palpable but words are no longer spoken. Instead, she watches him get up creating a huge shadow over her. Taking the bottle of champagne and suitcase, he begins walking towards the trees.

She stays lying on the ground contemplating whether or not to continue their battle of wits. Listlessly, she puts her hand to her forehead and notices that it is moist. She opens her hand to find it stained in crimson. Immediately, she checks herself finding nothing serious aside from a few scratches and bruises.

It was his. Grabbing a clump of sand in her hand, she rubs her hands together removing the blood. Throwing the rest of the sand to the ground, she reluctantly gets up and follows him into the trees.

As he walked, the sound of birds and crunching of the leaves echoed throughout. Moving aside some shrubbery, he decides to sit down his body preventing him from continuing on his expedition. Finding a rock, he props the suitcase besides it and decides to treat his wounds.

Carefully, he tries to remove his jacket by removing one sleeve and gently trying to peel of the other. He gasps as he moves his other arm from the sleeve. He closes his eyes and bites his lip because even the act of removing his clothes is too painful. Finally, he removes his jacket after carefully peeling it off – his dried blood causing his clothes to stick to his skin.

Biting his lower lip, he looks at the thousand-dollar jacket ruined by a huge slash from where the knife pierced him. Remembering, he moves his right hand where the very knife hangs on his belt.

He was both delighted and disappointed that Sydney got to kill the bastard who did this to him. In his opinion, she didn't do a too bad a job of killing him. However, he would have liked to see him suffer a little bit more.

He starts to unbutton his shirt from the top but the simple act of moving his arms up is more than he can bear. Instead, he decides to start from the bottom.

As he is working on his fourth button, he notices the bushes start moving. Then, he hears the sound of twigs snapping as something start moving towards him. Immediately, he grabs the knife.

When the bushes stop moving, he clutches it tighter. His eyes grow fierce as he prepares to attack whatever is lurking there.

Sydney stops seeing the bottle of champagne on the ground. She picks it up and moves the shrubbery aside to reveal Sark sitting with a knife in his hand.

Humored by the sight of Sark expecting something worse, she sarcastically says "Boo!"

"Well, what a surprise. Care to 'teach' me another lesson?" speaking calmly as he retracts the knife. Not many people have ever seen him scared and lived to tell the tale but in her case he'd make an exception.

"As a matter of fact, a lesson on stealing. That's my suitcase. I found it," pointing towards the suitcase besides him.

"Actually, this is my suitcase" moving his hand towards the suitcase's handle.

"Unless of course you still play finders, keepers," smirking at her.

Her eyes narrow, "Like I said, I don't play games." She grabs the suitcase but he makes no move towards it.

Holding on to it, she looks at the lock and hears him say, "The code is 2-1-4."

She rolls the numbers and opens the suitcase to find shirts, socks, and suits. It was his suitcase.

She closes it and moves towards him giving him the suitcase. He moves his hand towards it but she retracts it.

He asks, "I thought you said you didn't like to play games."

"Do you have a first aid kit?" she asks still holding onto the suitcase.

Confused by her sudden change of heart, he replies, "It's in the black bag on the corner."

She drops the suitcase on the ground and opens it. She opens the bag and finds a couple bandages, a sewing kit from the hotel, and other toiletries.

Holding the bag, she asks, "Where's the wound?"

"Why are you being nice?" asking her the same question she asked.

"I'm not. Just doing it for my subconscious," she replies.

He resumes to unbutton his shirt. Stopping he asks, "Would you?"

"What are your arms broken?" starting to regret her offer.

As he resumes to unbutton his shirt, he continues, "Actually, because of that little incident on the beach..."

She shoves his hands to the side. Rolling her eyes, she stoops down in front of him and begins to unbutton his shirt.

She doesn't look up at him but she can feel his eyes watching her. He was always watching her. She tries to ignore it but all she can hear is him breathing

He wants to say something sardonic but refrains for fear of her giving him more injuries than healing ones.

As she is undoing the last button, their eyes meet. She breaks away saying, "Take off your shirt."

"I'm afraid I'm enjoying this far more than I should but would you do it for me?" his eyes reflecting pure amusement.

As she removes the sleeve from his right arm, she whispers into his ear, "Stop tempting me…"

Pulling the rest of the shirt so that his other arm is strained, she continues, "Into beating you with your own arm."

He remains quiet but his smile reflects his every thought. She continues to remove his shirt to reveal his white undershirt stained in burgundy.

Tossing the shirt to the side, Sydney rips the undershirt to reveal his wound.

He gasps, "Do try to be a little more gentle."

His entire back is covered in blood. Using the undershirt, she wipes away the blood to reveal various scars.

Placing her hand on a bullet wound, he laughs.

"What?" she asks.

He shakes his head, "Nothing. Tickles."

"It's pretty bad," she tells him noting the three-inch gash in his back.

Turning his towards her, "I've had worst."

Looking at his scars, she believes him. There are various stitches all over his body revealing that this man was nothing but human.

As she looks at his wounds, she notices that he has a tattoo by his right shoulder. As she begins to study it, he interrupts her thoughts by saying, "As I recall, there was the time I had an ice pick thrown into my leg."

She laughs recalling a moment that seems so long ago.

He raises an eyebrow, "I'm glad to see my pain is funny to you."

Looking at her, he continues, "I had to wear a huge cast for months. It was dreadfully itchy."

She grabs the bottle of champagne and pours the alcohol over his wounds.

He winces, "That stings."

"Well, you deserved it. I nearly drowned when you shot a hole through the ice," giving him the bottle.

Taking a sip, he laughs, "Obviously nothing can stop you Agent Bristow."

Returning the bottle to her, she uses the liquor to wash her hands.

Picking up the sewing kit, she asks him, "Any color preference?"

He asks, "What are my options?"

Shaking her head, she removes the black thread, "Standard black it is."


	11. Kansas?

_I apologize for the long delay and the mental anguish it may have caused. Blame the long delay on my severe case of procrastination. Again, many thanks for your wonderful reviews. I apologize for the shortness. _

**Ch 11 Sub-zero**

He was quiet as she dressed his wound enjoying the feeling of her fingertips upon his skin. The silence was broken whenever he inhaled deeply trying to focus away from the pain as she pierced his skin with the needle. She on the other hand was busy studying the intricate details of his tattoo. Looking back, she vaguely recalls seeing it somewhere before. As she finishes sewing up his wound, he shivers.

"Cold?" she asks smiling at his vulnerability.

"Well, I am half-naked," watching her as he rubs his bare arms.

Looking through his suitcase she asks, "Do you always wear suits? Don't you have any jeans?" as she tosses him a shirt.

"If I die, I die well dressed," he replies as he begins putting the shirt on.

Without him even asking, she helps him dress. Placing his arms through the sleeves, she bends down in front him to button his shirt. Looking at his tight six-pack, she smiles at the idea of Sark working out in a gym wearing a suit. Knowing him, he probably had his own gym and some Sports Illustrated looking trainer.

As she is buttoning his shirt, she tells him, "It's getting dark. We should make camp."

"What? Here?" looking around at the daunting darkness of the trees.

Rolling her eyes, she looks through his suitcase saying, "Yes. Here."

As he finishes the last button, he asks, "Are you looking for something in particular? I'm just curious seeing as you are looking around my personal belongings."

Without looking at him, she replies, "Shoes."

Looking at her bare feet, he says, "Do try to be a bit more careful with my clothes." As bends down besides her, he grabs a pair of black sneakers and gives it to her.

As he watches her put them on, he tells her, "I believe it is much safer if we stay on the beach."

While she is tying her shoes, she teases him saying, "Afraid the trees are going to get us?"

The sound of trees falling prevents him from retorting. As he looks in the direction of the noise, he watches in horror as trees are being pulled down.

Looking down at her, he asks, "Did you see that?"

Sydney scrambles to her feet grabbing the suitcase and telling him to "Run!"

Following her, they speed through the trees unsure if they were moving towards the beach or towards the creature.

The sound of noise gets louder as the creature moves towards them starts picking up speed. It's running towards them fast.

As they are running, Sydney falls but Sark quickly grabs her arm helping her up saying,

"I suggest you do less falling and more running."

Panting, she retorts, "It's not me, it's your shoes."

The sound of creature roaring causes them to run faster towards a tree grove.

Sark stops and starts looking around as Sydney calls back, "What are you doing? Run!"

He calls her back, "No! Stop! In here!" grabbing Sydney, he pushes her behind trees of bamboo creating a cage around them.

He covers her with his body trying to protect her. Taken aback by his action, she remains quiet deciding to worry more about the creature than the fact that a wanted terrorist was holding her.

It's silent aside from the sound of their heavy breathing as they await the creature. They remain still as the creature's shadow cast upon them blocking out the light. They can hear the creature growling as it moves around them. Sydney can feel the breath of the beast upon her face, as it smells the air looking for their scent.

They are relieved when they hear the creature move away and light peers through the trees. The silence is broken with the sound of the bushes moving as birds fly from it.

Sark holds Sydney closer as they try to listen for the creature. Suddenly, the creature rams into the trees shaking them. They are pushed closer together as it hits the trees trying to break through them.

Sydney is startled when she feels Sark's hand move around her waist. As she is about to protest, she hears a gun click and watches as Sark casually points her gun towards the creature.

The sound of the gunshot echo in her ears as she watches Sark fire three more times.

The trees stop shaking as the creature shrieks and falls to the ground. Sark keeps the gun pointed towards the creature and starts walking towards it.

Sydney holds him back telling him to "Wait" as she takes the gun from him and moves towards the creature ahead of him.

She moves the gun down and stares at the creature in shock. She is taken aback when Sark tells her, "It's a polar bear."

Sydney stares at the white fur replying in confusion, "A polar bear in the jungle?"

Looking back at her, he asks, "Where are we?"


	12. Off Course

_Thanks for the reviews and motivation. Hope everyone enjoys their July 4th weekend._

**Ch.12 Off Course**

Her heart was still pounding as thoughts clouded her mind with every beat. "Where were they?" Truth is she really didn't know. What she did know was that they needed to get away from here as quickly as possible.

She looked at him, uncertainty reflecting in his eyes, as she was sure were in hers. Her finger relaxes against the trigger when she tells him, "We should keep moving."

He didn't reply. He was still trying to catch his breath as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. Instead, he watches her as she picks up his suitcase and starts walking through the dense thicket of the jungle. As he follows her, vines and creepers reach out towards them blocking their path - nothing to show them where to go.

From behind, she hears him say, "It was trying to hide."

Turning around, she asks, "What?"

"The bear."

She continues walking forward recalling the moment when the bear tried ramming through the trees. Mockingly, she replies, "Really? Or maybe he thought you were Santa Claus."

Arching an eyebrow in confusion he asks, "Do you really think a mere bear could rip down those trees?"

Stopping in her tracks, "What are you trying to say?"

"In plain English Agent Bristow, whatever did is still out there."

When she thought things couldn't get any worse, he goes ahead and validates it.

"If you are trying to make me feel better about the situation, it's not working."

She can hear his smile as he says, "What can I say? I am an optimist."

On the beach, a ghostly light shines on the wreckage - an unpleasant reminder of what took them to this place.

As if in a trance, Sydney follows the moonlight towards the remnants of the plane and starts searching through it. She is surprised when Sark does not follow but walks back into the trees. Shaking her head, she continues looking through scraps of metal, squinting as she tries to make out objects in the darkness.

She is taken off guard when she uncovers the body of one of the guards burned and mutilated. Closing her eyes, she gives herself a moment to forget the image but knowing all to well that the image is forever scorched into her memory.

Carefully, she continues looking through the scraps of metal asking herself, "Where is it?"

After finding two bodies, a suitcase of guns, and some canned food; she finally finds what she is looking for. Buried under half of the plane's wing, she finds the remainder of her suitcase.

Relief goes through her body as she realizes it is the compartment she kept her important belongings in. Unfortunately, all her clothes were burned in the fire but that didn't matter as long as she had what she needed most. She opens it noticing that it is bent and scorched but the contents were still secure.

Moving aside her barettas and refills, she takes out a black radio and turns it on. There's nothing but static.

The sound of static is broken when she hears a voice asking, "Anyone there?"

She turns around to see Sark carrying a pile of wood in his arms. She turns off the radio, "There's no signal."

"Did you try to find the plane's radio?" as he drops the pile in front of her.

Lifting her hand in the direction of the plane, "As you can see, the front part of the plane is missing."

Looking up towards the plane, he says, "So I'll take it as you did not."

"No, I'm afraid it's probably there with the bear's bully," pointing towards the trees.

"Obviously, you aren't afraid," as she watches him sits down besides her.

Taking two stones out of his pocket, he tells her, "I live off danger." She did too. The only difference is that danger tended to follow her and those she loved.

She watches him as he starts rubbing the two stones together trying to create a spark. After he tries for five minutes to no avail, he throws the stones to the ground.

"So much more a nice warm fire," he thinks.

She gives him a devious smile as she picks up the two stones. Then, she kneels down in front of the pile and with one strike creates a fire.

Rubbing her two hands together, she turns to look at him, "Clearly, you live off danger… _indoors_."

Giving her a devious smile, "Oh Agent Bristow, you really do know how to start a fire."

Holding her hands to the fire, she says, "Girl scout."

"Somehow that doesn't strike me as odd."

Staring at the fire, she remembers when she was younger and how she loved being in the troop. She cherished how the other girls' mothers were so warm and affectionate to her replacing the void left by her own mother.

Her thoughts are broken when Sark says, "Don't think too hard now."

"How can I when you are so distracting?" giving him a cold look.

Running his fingers through his hair, "So I'm distracting."

Sydney picks up a spare branch and holds it as if to him. She wanted to smack the smile off his face so badly. Conversely, he remains indifferent and watches her as she starts drawing the shape of Australia.

Looking at the shape, she tells him, "Since we left Australia we are more likely to be closer to the South Pole."

He stops looking at one of the canned foods asking, "And?"

"_And_ polar bears live in the North Pole. Penguins live in the _South Pole_."

Opening the can with his knife, he offers her some olives, "Perhaps our friend didn't get the memo."

She shakes her head, "Let's say we were heading towards Fiji until we 'landed' here."

He pops another olive in his mouth, "The only problem is we have no clue as to where we were going in the first place. We could be thousands of miles off course."

She looks at him, "I thought you were an optimist."

"I didn't say that it was bad," as he opens a can of caviar offering her some.

She shakes her head again, "Do the math. If they know the last place we were within 500 miles. That's an area of 250,000 times three point one four."

He answers her, "800,000 square miles."

She nods, "Three times the size of Texas."

He takes a bite of caviar, "Hmm."

"What do you mean by 'hmm'?"

"Hmm… as in there's no point in waiting up for them then," putting down the cans of food.

He looks around looking for his suitcase and reaches for hers.

She grabs it before he can take it, "That's mine."

"Pardon me. But it appears you have taken my suitcase as if it were your own. It's only fair that I take yours."

She takes his suitcase and shoves it in front of him saying, "Take it."

Carefully, he takes the suitcase from her. "Now, now. There's no need to be aggressive."

She holds onto her suitcase saying, "You're welcome."

He opens his suitcase, "My is somebody in a bad mood."

He looks at her eyes burning with anger when she says, "Let's just say, I've had a bad day."

"You're not the only one," as he takes out a jacket and hands it to her.

She doesn't take it so he places on the ground and lies atop of it. Knowing all to well that now the suit was unsalvageable.

Turning towards her, "We should take turns sleeping."

"I don't know about you but sleeping while a crazed terrorist watches me doesn't really spell out sweet dreams."

"You know when one is being polite, it is only proper for them to return the favor."

"Don't do me any favors."

Shrugging his shoulders, "Well, good night then."

She remains sitting, "Nite."

She watches as Sark quickly falls asleep. When she is certain he is, she opens her suitcase and takes out a little plane.

Holding it to the fire, a tear falls from her eye as she recalls the image of the dead guard, " I should have died so many times."

Immediately, tears well up in her eyes and start streaming down her face. She looks to the wreckage in the distance, "But I'm still here…."

Her gaze returns back to the little toy plane and her thoughts continue, "And I don't know why."


	13. le Paradis

_Sorry I've been awol for a while. I'd like to say I was busy enjoying the summer on a beach with a handsome fellow. The reality is I'm spending my summer at school and work with old, married men. I'll just have to write about where I'd really want to be… on a beach with Sark._

**Ch.13 Paradise**

She had just drifted to sleep when the sound of metal creaking awoke her. She immediately opens her eyes only to squint them in pain when she realizes that they were still sore. She had awoken many times like this, unable to see but finding it was only then that she saw things clearly. For some people crying is a sign of weakness but for her it was source of strength. It was a chance for her to let go of all the emotional baggage even though it wasn't entirely.

Regardless, she still hoped that Sark wouldn't notice –him being one of those people who viewed crying as a weakness. As she is about to stand up, she notices that there is a jacket on her. When she looks for the owner, she sees him staring towards the wreckage.

She follows his gaze towards the plane as the sound of metal moving grows louder. As she turns to get her gun, she notices Sark is already walking towards the plane.

She quickly gets up realizing her entire body is aching. Placing her hand behind her neck, she tries to massage the soreness away. In doing so, she drops the jacket to the ground but quickly puts it on, the cold air causing her entire body to shiver. Without hesitation, she reaches for her gun and follows behind him.

Through the corner of his eye, he sees her a few feet behind him. Waving his hand, he warns her to stand back when he notices something dark moving between the sheets of metal. Thinking of nothing better, he fires causing it to move hysterically.

The first thought that comes to her mind is, "Bears."

She is taken off guard when she sees a hairy boar running towards them. It's dark eyes reflecting fear rather than fury.

He falls to the side as he tries to avoid being rammed by its deadly tusks. From his sitting position, he starts firing as it runs towards the trees. The sound awaking the entire island as birds fly frantically from their nests.

They wait until the bushes stay still before retracting their weapons. She watches as Sark gets up wiping the sand from his clothes.

Pointing his gun towards the trees, "Monsters, bears, and pigs. What's next? Flying monkeys?"

In a cold tone, she replies, "We need to burn the bodies."

"What we need to do is get off this god-forsaken place."

Folding her arms both in defiance and to stay warm, "And how do you plan on doing that? When we have nothing to use… no one to find us."

As he returns his gun to his side, he tells her, "I'm afraid your dependence on your trinkets has inhibited you from surviving in the real world."

Rolling her eyes," This is from someone who can't even build a fire."

"Ah Agent Bristow. You underestimate me. You will soon come to learn that I am capable of many things," giving her a devious smile.

Wanting to wipe that smile off his face, she bites back, "The only thing you're capable of is whatever your master tells you."

It worked. His eyes quickly frost over when he warns her, "Careful now. I can be a good friend and even worse enemy."

Satisfied she put him back in his place, she retorts, "Lucky for you, I'm not looking for a friend."

Placing his hand over his heart, "As much as it pains me that you won't be inviting me to your house for tea any time soon, I'm the only one here and you need me."

Laughing at the thought, "I don't need anybody… especially you."

She watches as he turns around and bends down. Surprised by his action, she thinks, "Is he mooning me?"

Before she can catch herself checking him out, he gets up and walks towards her holding two stones. Holding them out to her, he replies, "When you're done promoting the need for feminism, I suggest you start building a fire for our little barbeque."

Looking at the stones in her hand, "What are you going to do then?"

He bends down again in front of her and starts rolling up his pants, "I'm going to fetch breakfast."

Striking the rocks behind him, she tells him, "I always love a good barbeque."

Raising his eyebrow, he smiles realizing what she tried to do. Smiling mostly because he knew she would set him on fire in an instant.

Walking in opposite directions, she walks towards the wreckage while he walks into the sea. From a distance, she scans the perimeter around the plane to ensure that there aren't any more critters lurking around. When she is certain that there aren't anymore things that are salvageable, she takes a piece of cloth and sets it on fire.

She watches as the fire consumes the rest of the wreckage, the wind causing the fire to get stronger very quickly. At the same time, she wraps the jacket around her burying her face in it. She inhales, taking in his scent. The aroma of rosewood, crisp jasmine, and sandalwood sending her back to a time, a place, a moment long ago.

She slowly opens her eyes to see the sun rising and the dark blanket of stars being chased away by the vibrant pinks and violets of a new day.

Her thoughts are broken when she hears him calling her, "Sydney, come here."

She turns to sees him waving for her to join him. Nodding her head, she walks towards him as he is sitting down looking towards the horizon.

When she reaches him, he pulls her into his lap and places his arms around her. She smiles and leans her head against his chest, inhaling his scent.

He kisses the top of her head and whispers, "I love you Sydney."

He didn't say that often but it meant the world to her whenever he did. Her eyes glisten, when she tells him, "I love you."

Returning his gaze towards the sunrise, he asks, "Do you like this place sweetheart?"

She looks up at him, "It's beautiful here."

He smiles but his eyes are sad when he says, "It is isn't it?"

His smile fades when he continues, "Your mommy is in a place just like this."

She asks, "Mommy's in paradise?"

Fighting back tears, he tells her, "Yes she is."

Like any other seven year old, she innocently replies, "Well, we're in paradise. Why can't she be with us?"

"Because…" his voice breaking when he tries to tell her, "Because it's not our time sweetheart."

Her eyes immediately well up as all the emotions rip through her body and she starts crying, "But I miss her."

Tears start streaming down his face too, "Oh I know you do." He kisses the top of her head saying, "I miss her too."

He continues to rock her, "I'm sorry I let you down." Her body starts to shake from her sobs so that she cannot really her him say, "My job is to protect. But I couldn't even protect the woman I love."

He holds her closer, "I will never let anything happen to you."

She shakes her head, "Daddy promise you'll never leave me."

"Promise."

She looks at him and starts tracing a cross over his heart.

He kisses the top of her head again, "With all my heart."

She gives him a kiss on the cheek and closes her eyes as a tear drops.

She quickly wipes it away and opens them to see Sark smashing a fish against a rock. Its body twitching until he gives it a final blow and its body goes limp.

He holds it by the tail and looks up at her, "Breakfast anyone?"

She yawns in an attempt to mask the tears as one from sleep. Sleepily she replies, "I don't do breakfast."

Retracting the fish, he places it on a banana leaf and starts wrapping it. "You say that now. But just wait."

Taking the green package, he places it over the fire. Wiping his hands, he continues, "I'm known for making a rather unforgettable breakfast"

She scoffs at him but she couldn't deny the fact that she hadn't eaten for nearly a day.

She watches him take his knife and start scraping the sides of a stick when she tells him, "It smells like you."

"Fish?" he asks, confused by her out-of-the blue statement.

Holding up the collar, "Your jacket."

He looks at her curiously, "And?"

Trying to be as subtle as she can, she asks, "What do you wear?"

Taking another stick, he continues the same method of smoothing the sides. "Why the sudden curiosity in my preference of cologne?"

Shrugging her shoulders, "No reason."

"Are you planning on buying a bottle for Agent Vaughn? I know his wife would have loved it," a smirk instantly appearing at the statement.

She gets up to leave. "This is why I hate talking to you."

Holding the two sticks like chop sticks, he tells her, "If one asks the question, they should be prepared to hear the answer."

"Well, I don't listen to bullshit," as she turns to walk away.

"Agent Bristow, you really should acquire a better sense of humor."

Walking away, she mockingly replies, "Ha. Ha."

He calls out to her, "Well, don't you want to know the name of it?"

In a cold tone, she replies, "Not anymore."

He uses the chopsticks to check his meal when he tells her, "It's something your mother bought me."

She stops and waits for him to continue.

"Something called le Paradis."


End file.
